


some day we’ll both wake up for good

by zozo



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zozo/pseuds/zozo
Summary: Cleaning out her room, Adora discovers a letter she wrote to Catra but never sent.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 387
Collections: the corners of today





	some day we’ll both wake up for good

**Author's Note:**

> When I read [That Letter](https://inescapable.org/img/spopletter.png) last year in the _Rebel Princess Guide_ I knew I was going to write this fic in whatever scenario the finale left us with. There are many fics like it—this one is mine.

It’s weird for Catra to think about the fact that Adora has lived at Bright Moon so long she needs to clean out her bedroom. Adora gets defensive about the state her closet is in every time Catra makes the _tiniest_ little joke about how much crap she’s amassed over the past three years.

“There was a _war_ on, Catra. I didn’t have time for… spring cleaning!”

Perhaps to avoid any more of Catra’s—extremely hilarious, by the way—jokes about being devoured by the First Ones monster potentially lurking behind all the bags and baskets and boxes of miscellany, Adora’s decided to take today and try to get things organized. And—perhaps because Adora’s wearing a top that’s barely more than a sports bra and some frankly indecent running shorts—Catra’s keeping her company while she does.

“You don’t _have_ to be here, Catra,” says Adora for the fifth or sixth time. “Aren’t you bored? You can go hang out with Glimmer or something if you want, I won’t be mad.”

“Hmm?” Catra says, quickly looking up from the lines of muscle running up and down Adora’s right thigh. “What?”

Adora blushes instantly. “Were you just…”

“Yeah, sorry, wasn’t listening.”

“Uh-huh…” Catra might break a sweat with the effort it’s taking to maintain her deadpan as Adora squirms happily and goes back to sorting through stuff.

Catra hasn’t really talked about this yet, but she _loves_ doing nothing. That was never an option in the Horde: if you weren’t on mission, you were training; if you weren’t training, you were eating or sleeping. Neither Hordak nor Shadow Weaver—nor, later, Catra herself—had ever been a major proponent of “downtime” when there was conquering to be done.

Now? It might be her second-favourite thing about this brave new world besides sex with Adora—okay, besides _everything_ with Adora. She could lie here on their bed and listen to Adora rustle through trash all fucking _day_. Catra sighs, does another thirty glorious seconds of nothing at all, and feels decadent right down to her toes.

It takes her a minute to notice that the rustling has stopped. Hoping that Adora’s planning a make-out break, Catra flops over to face her girlfriend—but Adora’s still sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by junk. She’s holding a piece of paper in her hand and she looks stricken.

“Adora?” says Catra, but Adora doesn’t move a muscle except for her eyes, which continue to read, corners slowly crinkling with pain. “Hey, Adora, are you okay? What are you reading? Adora!”

“M’huh?” Adora actually jumps a little, like she’s coming back to herself from somewhere far away, and looks at Catra like she’s seeing a ghost. Her eyes are so full of tears Catra’s surprised she could read at all.

Before she can say anything else, Adora has launched herself from the floor towards the bed, pinning Catra to the mattress with her entire body, literally wrapping all four limbs around her. Catra’s basically immobilized, and she feels Adora’s hot tears on the side of her neck.

“Catra…” Adora whispers, “ _Catra_ …” Her voice cracks, and then she’s sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey,” soothes Catra, “hey, Adora, I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Like _right_ here.” She wriggles a little, nuzzling Adora and kissing the tip of her ear, the only part of Adora she can currently reach. “Everything’s okay. I’m here, I’m safe, I’m alive, and I’m all yours.” Adora grips her even tighter, still weeping.

“Adora, what did you just _read_?”

Adora doesn’t answer immediately, but Catra feels her start to slow her breathing, so Catra makes her own breaths slow and regular too. Adora sniffles and swallows a few times, then infinitesimally loosens her hold on Catra to wipe at her eyes.

“Catra,” she says again, voice still breaking. “I wrote you a letter.”

Catra doesn’t get it.

“I wrote it… after the portal.”

“Oh.” Catra gets it. “I’m… I’m not sure what to say.”

Adora shakes her head sharply. “You don’t need to say anything. It’s not about what you did. It’s about… us.”

Catra tries to remember what constituted “us” right after the portal. She trembles, and she knows Adora can feel it.

“I didn’t think…” Adora sounds like she’s trying to explain herself. “Catra, I didn’t know… I thought we would never…”

Catra wriggles some more until Adora reluctantly lets her climb into a sitting position. She scoots around to sit behind Adora, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and resting her cheek against Adora’s back.

They take turns being the little spoon. It’s definitely Adora’s turn right now.

“Do you want me to read it?” Catra asks, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. “I’ll read it, if you want me to.”

Adora sobs again, just once. “I don’t know. It’s not… it’s not important stuff. It’s just sad.” She snuggles back into Catra. “Not to mention extremely out of date.”

“Yeah,” Catra says. “I get that too. It’s totally up to you.”

Adora’s quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then she unclasps Catra’s hands from her waist, kisses them, and scurries to retrieve the letter from the floor before practically flinging herself back into Catra’s arms. The letter’s folded over. Catra feels a hot coal of dread flare in the pit of her stomach.

“I wrote this because I was sad,” Adora says, apparently as a preamble. “I was so _sad_ after—” Catra feels her wrestle her tears back under control. “Someone told me I might feel better if I wrote my feelings down. So I tried it.”

Catra hums. “Did you feel better?”

“A little, I guess,” Adora sniffles. “Not as good as I feel now. Not as good as you make me feel every day.” She twists around and kisses Catra on the lips, mouth hot and cheeks still wet with tears. Catra doesn’t mind, and she really doesn’t mind when Adora deepens the kiss with her tongue, hands sliding up Catra’s sides, thumbs just brushing the underside of her breasts.

“Whoa,” moans Catra, “okay, or we could do this…”

“I just…” Adora says, still hungrily kissing Catra between breaths, “I need you to know… I need you to know how I feel _now_ … before you read it, okay?” Another kiss, the sloppiest one yet, and this time one of her hands cups Catra’s breast fully, thumb teasing the nipple through her shirt. Catra’s so glad she decided not to wear a bra today.

She doesn’t want to have sex with this hanging over their heads, though, so she very gently disengages from Adora, brushing leftover tears from her girlfriend’s cheeks with a soft caress, then brushing a few of Adora’s tears from her own. She rubs her thighs together.

“Gods’ sake, Adora,” she mutters, “I think I’m wetter than your face right now.”

Adora’s startled hiccup of a laugh cracks them both up. They end up leaning on each other, forehead to forehead, hands cupping the backs of each other’s necks.

Adora lets out a long, trembling sigh. “Okay. Ready?”

Catra kisses her nose. “I’m ready for anything as long as I’ve got you.”

“Catraaa!” Adora rocks her shoulders back and forth. “You can’t just _say_ things like that!”

“Or what,” Catra teases, “you’ll fall in love with me?”

But Adora just looks her in the eyes, simple and serious. “Too late.”

Now it’s Catra’s turn to flush all the way to her ears. She holds her hand out for the letter, making sure to brush her fingers against Adora’s when she takes it.

_Dear Catra, You are my enemy now, and you always will be. I know that now…_

Honestly, Catra thinks, it could be a lot worse. Part of her was expecting vitriol, or Double Trouble’s style of ruthless character demolition, or an itemized list of every shitty thing Catra had ever said or done.

This? This is definitely sad. It breaks Catra’s heart all over again to think about how badly she hurt Adora; the pain seeps through every word on the page. But as she reads it, and then re-reads it, and then reads it a third time through, she sees it’s even more full of love.

“Adora,” she breathes.

“I know,” says Adora, and kisses the side of Catra’s head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” says Catra, getting her voice back a little. "You have nothing to be sorry for. That was… really honest. And really fair. It—made me sad too, how much we hurt each other. How much I hurt you.

“But… Adora…?”

“Y-yes, Catra?”

“That letter was also _really_ gay.”

Adora sputters, too shocked to even try to shove or tickle her. Catra holds the letter up and finds the middle paragraph.

“You _missed_ me, Adora. You missed my _smile_. You even missed me being faster than you, you terminal slowpoke.”

Adora is blushing, and smiling, and crying all at once. She looks kind of like a hot mess, frankly. And Catra has never loved her more.

“You—you really loved me,” she finishes, the teasing lilt gone from her voice. “You really always did.”

“I really always did,” Adora confirms, leaning in for another teary kiss.

Later, Adora tosses the letter into one of the bags she’s using for trash.

She doesn’t need it any more.


End file.
